


we were both born today

by nevermindthewind



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Post Season 3, Post-Canon, labor/pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 18:05:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10904604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevermindthewind/pseuds/nevermindthewind
Summary: "It’s real for me.”“It is for me, too.”Tears threaten to fall down her face, but she doesn’t even try to stop them.  Not this time.If it was real then why were you gone when I woke up?(set post 3x15)





	we were both born today

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This is what I would like to see happen in season 4, re: Laurel and the baby. Let her grieve, let her be angry and sad and whatever else she needs. But then have her life completely change when the baby's born. 
> 
> 2\. If any of you have seen/heard the soundtrack/heard of the musical Waitress, that's where I got the basic idea as well as the title.
> 
> 3\. The fic is set post season 3, and I don't think there is any canon divergence.
> 
> 4\. I wrote this last night really quickly and it's REALLY different from what I normally write, at least it feels like it is. So hopefully you all like it. Comments are appreciated!
> 
> 5\. AND as always editing is done by me so I probably missed some things.

It’s a little before 10:00, and she is just about to get ready for bed when her water breaks.  

 

“ _ Fuck, _ ” she whispers. She leans onto the arm of the couch, looking down to assess the damage. It looks like she peed herself. And while she’d be lying if she said that hadn’t happened before during her pregnancy, at 39 weeks Laurel knows better. A groan escapes her lips.

 

She doesn’t want to deal with this. 

 

Shouldn’t have to deal with this. 

 

\--

 

Dr. Patel says she has time, so she takes a shower. With her belly it takes her a little longer, but she manages. She always manages.  She’d learned how to do that a long time ago.

 

Nothing has changed.

 

She steps out onto the cool tile and looks up to see her naked body in the mirror. Michaela said she glows, but all Laurel could see was an ugly scar that ran down her thigh and a swollen, stretched out version of herself that had been taken over by someone else, a parasite that drained her of all of her energy.  

 

It kicks, as if it knows she’s thinking about it.  Instantly Laurel feels guilty. Ashamed. 

 

Mothers aren’t supposed to feel this way about their babies.

 

She moves away from the mirror, sighing.  She looks for something to wear that is comfortable in the mid-June heat but is also socially acceptable. Not that it really matters. Finally she decides on a pair of running shorts and one of his old Middleton t-shirts; she’s convinced it still smells like him.

 

As she makes her way from the bathroom to her bedroom, her gaze immediately falls onto the only framed picture in her apartment. It’s a selfie of the two of them, one of the only pictures they took while they were officially dating.  Her arms are wrapped around his neck and she’s planting a kiss on his cheek, her eyes closed.  He’s smiling at the camera, his dimples in full force. 

 

_ “It’s real for me.” _

 

_ “It is for me, too.” _

 

Tears threaten to fall down her face, but she doesn’t even try to stop them.  Not this time.

 

_ If it was real then why were you gone when I woke up? _

 

\--

 

It’s not long before the contractions start.  Her muscles tighten and harden and it’s uncomfortable, but not too painful. Not yet. She tries to sleep, but every time she starts to drift off a contraction wakes her back up.  After about a half hour she gives up on sleep and just lays there, her thoughts keeping her company. 

 

_ “When did you know with Wes?” _

 

_ “When it was too late.” _

 

She sighs into the darkness.

 

_ Did you know that I loved you? _

 

\--

 

Around 1:00 am her contractions are almost six minutes apart. The pain is much more, well, painful now and she knows she needs to go to the hospital but she can’t seem to move. She thought she would be able to drive herself, however that was before her body started ripping itself apart every 6.25 minutes. 

 

So she caves and does the very thing she swore she wouldn’t do; she calls Michaela, who answers on the second ring.

 

“Laurel?”

 

“Hey,” Laurel starts. But then she pauses, unable to ask for help. She’s been on her own for so long, the concept is almost foreign to her.

 

“Is everything ok?” Michaela asks. Laurel gulps, squeezing her eyes shut before asking,

 

“Can you take me to the hospital?” Her voice is small. 

 

“Oh! Okay, yes, I’m on my way. Is your bag packed?” Michaela, always the mother.

 

“Yeah it is. Okay. Thanks,” she responds, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

 

“No problem. I’ll see you in fifteen.”

 

She was there in ten.

 

\--

 

Everything moves faster once they are at the hospital.  Michaela checks her in and gets her situated, and when Laurel tells her she can leave, Michaela just glares at her as she takes her perch in a chair next to Laurel’s bed.

 

“You know I’m not going anywhere,” she responds.

 

Laurel leans back into her pillows, defeated. But then she smiles the tiniest of smiles. She’d forgotten what it was like to have a friend.

 

Then another contraction hits and her smile turns into a grimace. They were coming much faster now, and ten times more intense. She holds her breath, willing the contraction to pass.

 

“Laurel breathe,” Michaela says softly. 

 

She exhales, a low groan coming out from deep within her.  

 

“I hate this,” Laurel murmurs as the contraction begins to subside. 

 

“I know, but you’re doing great,” Michaela says, trying to be positive. Now it’s Laurel who glares at Michaela. “What? You are!”

 

Laurel just shakes her head.

 

\--

 

After two hours, when her doctor comes in she practically begs for an epidural.  And even though she almost passes out at the sight of the giant ass needle, the relief is one hundred percent worth it.  The contractions are still there, of course, but the pain is minimal compared to before, and she can actually feel the baby wiggling, getting ready to make an appearance.  

 

To Laurel, this is even more terrifying.

 

\--

 

At 6:30 Dr. Patel tells her she’s at ten centimeters, and ready to begin pushing. A nurse goes to guide her feet into the stirrups and she freezes. 

 

She’s not ready for this. 

 

_ How do I do this without you? _

 

“Laurel the next contraction will be here in thirty seconds and then I want you to push, ok?” her doctor says as she sits at the end of the bed, preparing for the extra life that was about to enter the room.

 

She shakes her head. Tears form in her eyes. 

 

“I can’t. I can’t do it.” She begins to cry.

 

Michaela takes her hand. “Yes you can, Laurel. You can,” she repeats.

 

Laurel shakes her head again.

 

“I need him,” she whispers, crying harder. “He’s supposed to be here.” Michaela squeezes her hand. She’s crying too.

 

“I know,” she says gently.  “But right now your baby, Wes’ baby, needs you too.”

 

Laurel looks up at her, sniffling. “I’m so scared.” 

 

Michaela nods. “That’s okay. You have a right to be scared. But you  _ can _ do this, Laurel. You’ve got this.”

 

_ I’ve got you. _

 

_ I’ve got myself, thank you very much. _

 

_ I know, but I’m gonna be there, too. _

 

Suddenly Laurel feels the urge to push. And even though there’s a huge part of her that would like nothing more than to ignore it, to resist, she looks up. 

 

He’s got her.

 

“Okay,” she says, quietly but determined. When the doctor gives her the okay, she pushes as hard as she can with a roar of pain.  Michaela never lets go of her hand except to sweep her hair out of her face.  For about an hour she continues, crying the entire time. It’s the hardest thing she’s ever done.

 

And then just like that there is another person in the room, filling the air with soft little cries.  

 

They place her on Laurel’s chest and instantly everything changes.  

 

Neither of them are crying anymore.  They simply look at each other, as if neither can believe the other is real.  

 

She has Wes’ mouth and nose, Laurel’s eyes, and chocolate skin. She is hands down the most beautiful thing in the entire world. She is theirs. 

 

Laurel takes her finger and delicately strokes her daughter’s hair, drinking in all of her features as if she’d never get to see her again.  In the last eight months Laurel had convinced herself that she would feel nothing but pain when she saw their baby, but in reality it’s the opposite.  Because while yes, there is pain and grief, it is overshadowed by the enormous swell of love and pride she feels towards this little girl.  

 

She plants the softest kiss on her daughter’s head. “You are so loved, sweet girl,” she whispers. 

 

\--

 

Her name is Talia Rose Gibbins-Castillo. 

 

She is the love of Laurel’s life.

 

\--

 

Michaela leaves to grab a few things for Laurel and comes back with Asher, Connor, and Oliver in tow.  

 

They all take turns holding her.  Connor, having nieces and nephews, is a natural.  Asher on the other hand has no idea what to do. When it’s his turn to hold the baby he sits in the rocker and Michaela brings her to him like you would for a small child. He rocks her back and forth, an awed expression on his face.

 

“I can’t believe she came out of you,” he says.  Michaela rolls her eyes, but secretly thinks about how great of a dad he’d be one day.  

 

“She looks just like Wes,” Oliver comments before he can stop himself. Everyone looks around, not sure how to react.

 

Laurel just smiles, never taking her eyes off of her.

 

“I know,” she says softly. 

 

\--

 

Her favorite thing to do is watch Talia sleep.  

 

The two of them sit there for what feels like hours, Laurel watching her little chest rise and fall.  She knows she should be sleeping, but she can’t help it; she studies her like she would a civpro exam, mentally taking note of every little detail that makes up her daughter.  She takes in her squeaky grunts, her delicate fingers, how her lips curl whenever Laurel touches her, everything.

 

_ You would absolutely love her. _

 

\--

 

She’s getting Talia ready to leave the hospital when he shows up.

 

“She’s beautiful.”

 

Laurel looks up to see Frank in the doorway.  Instinctively she pulls her daughter close, grounding her.

 

“What are you doing here?” she asks, her voice soft but deadly.

 

“Just wanted to see how you were,” he says, gingerly taking a step towards her.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Laurel…” he pauses.

 

“What is it?” she sighs, exasperation in her voice.

 

“It’s just, uh, if you need anything, I’m here. I’ll be here. If you want me to,” he adds, his eyes intense. “I still lo--”

 

“Frank, don’t,” she says. She meet his gaze and looks him straight in the eye. “I don’t love you.  I haven’t for a long time. So please, just let me go and leave me and my daughter alone.”

 

He’s quiet, and for a second they’re at a standstill, just looking at each other. Finally he breaks the silence.

 

“Okay,” he says, a tone of finality in his voice. “Bye then.” 

 

He walks out the door and he never tries anything again.

 

\--

 

Michaela and Asher drive them home later that day.  They help her unpack and watch Talia while Laurel showers and takes a nap.  It’s nice having them here, knowing that she has people she can rely on again. 

 

But after awhile she’s ready for it to be just the two of them.  

 

“Guys seriously, go home,” she says, Talia asleep in her arms on the couch. “I’ll call you if I need anything.”

 

Michaela narrows her eyes. “You promise?” 

 

Laurel goes to kick her, albeit halfheartedly. “Yes,” she answers honestly. “Now go! Let me bond with my baby.”

 

Asher nods and says, “Tally-ho Talia!” giving Talia’s hand a little shake before heading towards the door.  Michaela plants a kiss on the baby’s head before saying to Laurel, “He’d be so proud of both of you,” and giving her a quick hug. 

 

Laurel looks up at her and smiles before returning her gaze to her daughter.

 

“I know.”

 

She missed him like the sun missed the moon.  He should be here, getting to know their daughter who had his mouth and her eyes.  She knew that grief would be apart of her forever.  But as she sat there watching Talia open her eyes and reach her tiny hand out to her, Laurel also knew they’d be okay.  

 

_ You hear that? We’ll be okay. _

 

**Author's Note:**

> _“I didn't know, but now I see_   
>  _Sometimes what is, is meant to be_   
>  _You saved me_   
>  _My blurry lines, my messy life_   
>  _Come into focus and in time, maybe_   
>  _I can heal and I can breathe_   
>  _'Cause I can feel myself believe_   
>  _That everything changes_   
>  _And I swear I’ll remember to say we were both born today”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Everything Changes, Sara Bareilles_


End file.
